


Hikari 27

by UglyGreenJacket



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Long-Distance Relationship, OTP Feels, Romance, Trains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 09:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18848101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UglyGreenJacket/pseuds/UglyGreenJacket
Summary: A chance meeting on an early morning train, leads to a whirlwind romance. But unspoken wants and lives in different cities could threaten to ruin it all. A birthday fic for FloraOne.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FloraOne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloraOne/gifts).



> So, it's FloraOne's birthday, you guys, which means it's time for another installment of UglyGreenJacket Writes FloraOne a Birthday Fic. This will be a multi-chapter little piece that I think will end up being a lot of fun, so let me know what you think of this prologue, and go wish Flora a happy birthday! She's the best, I have her to thank for this, and most other things, too ;) Happy birthday, love! I hope you enjoy this, and I'm grateful you were born!

Usagi sighed in frustration, plopping down into her reserved seat aboard the Hikari 27 shinkansen, bound for Tokyo, immediately placing her head against the window, her eyes closing wearily.

It was early.  _Ungodly_  early. And she was cursing herself for waiting so long to make her reservation, leaving the 6 am train back to Tokyo as her only option.

Why did they even run trains this early, anyway? It's not as if people could truly function at a time like this.

Her compartment, car number 14, was filled with Japanese and foreigners alike as she heard at least three different languages going on around her, only one of which she actually understood, while people looked for their seats, and pushed luggage up above in the small storage spaces.

She had only managed to make the train because of Makoto's help, and the small flash of annoyance Usagi felt at being awakened at such an hour abated into a soft smile at the thought of her friend.

Sweet, motherly, wonderful Makoto had moved to Osaka two years back in order to get in on the ever-burgeoning culinary scene. She had spent time as a pastry chef in a Michelin three-star restaurant, and had finally saved, and earned enough notoriety, to realize her dream of opening her own bakery.

Of course, the second Usagi had heard about her beloved Mako-chan's bakery opening, she had dropped everything, opting to spend two weeks in Osaka helping Makoto in any possible way she could.

She had dubbed herself Official Taste-Tester, which of course, Usagi excelled at beyond even her own wildest dreams, thanks to Makoto's amazing creations, but she'd even become fairly adept at working the register by the time her two weeks were up, and she decided that, if her career as a freelance social media expert ever came to a screeching halt, that working for Makoto wouldn't be the worst idea she'd ever had.

Usagi was especially grateful for the line of work she'd ended up in, however. It was fun and exciting, and her creative side got the spotlight her mother always claimed it should have. And being freelance, she could work when she wanted or needed, and it was easy to create posts for Instagram and Facebook ahead of time, allowing her to schedule weeks of work in advance, freeing up her schedule so she could spend as much time with her loved ones as she could, or, in this case, jetting off to Osaka for two weeks in order to help one of her dearest friends open their bakery.

Plus, it didn't hurt that she was damn good at what she did, supporting a hefty portfolio of clients across Japan who all clamored for ideas and content from Tsukino Usagi.

Usagi loved her life. Loved her job, her family, her friends. She was content, and happy, and very few things could bring her down.

Except the shrill sound of an alarm at 5 am.

Of course, Makoto had been up even earlier than Usagi, preparing what was bound to be the most amazing bento ever created (if Usagi could find the strength to eat it being so tired) (who was she kidding,  _of course she'd eat it._ ) And Usagi could barely suppress grateful tears, engulfing the brunette in a giant hug, when Makoto handed it to her in a brand new, and absolutely adorable, bento box, decorated with the most adorable little bunny she'd ever seen, a thank you for helping her these past two weeks.

She was surrounded by crowds of people whizzing by her and running from one platform to the next, when she stopped to hug Makoto goodbye, and Usagi found herself being struck with that familiar sense of awe at the hustle and bustle of Japan's train stations, especially this early in the morning.

But now, she sat curled up in her seat, actually having been on time to the train for once, her head finding the most comfortable position it could against a cold, hard window, as she prepared to sleep the entire way to Shinagawa Station.

There was some rustling off to her right, as someone struggled to fit their luggage into the bins overhead, and she heard a small, but deep, 'oof,' as whomever it was pushed back from the brute force of their own pushing.

Usagi opened an eye angrily, huffing in annoyance, prepared to give the person the best stink eye she could possibly muster.

But the sight that greeted her made her breath catch.

A man was scooting towards the middle seat. The seat right next to her. But this wasn't just  _any_ man.

He was tall and slim, with inky black hair that fell softly into his face as he moved. Impeccably dressed, with form fitting black jeans and black turtleneck under a knit grey sweater, topped off with a knotted plaid scarf that hung loose around his neck. The sleeves of his sweater were pushed up slightly revealing muscled arms that looked like they were made to hold someone.

And his eyes. God, his eyes! The deepest color blue you could ever imagine!

But how was it she could see the color of his eyes so well, unless…

Usagi flushed beat red, her eyes darting to the seat back in front of her, complete embarrassment flooding her at having been caught openly staring at the most beautiful man she'd  _ever seen._

After a few moments, she dared a peek at him from the corner of her eye, expecting him to be blushing and flustered similarly. But instead, she was almost certain there was a satisfied  _smirk_  on his face.

The nerve of this Ridiculously Hot Train Guy was really something, she thought to herself, seething silently at the satisfaction he got from her ogling.

She felt the train jolt to life as they started to move swiftly away from Shin-Osaka.

 _Ah, what the hell,_  she thought, reaching into her bag to pull out the bento Makoto had made for her. She risked a glance in her seat partner's direction, finding him already absorbed in some boring looking article.  _It's not like I'm going to get any sleep now, anyway._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE thank you to Flora for her help and encouragement and patience with this fic. I kinda love how it's turning out and I hope you do too! I also have to thank Antigone2 for her help with this, and keeping me on track with these crazy characters 333
> 
> Hope you all enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

Usagi wasn't quite sure how she knew. How did anyone ever really understand their feelings in moments like this anyway? But all Usagi knew was that she was completely, totally, and  _epically_  in love with Ridiculously Hot Train Guy.

This was it, she was convinced, while watching him twirl a strand of hair in his fingers as he read. There would never be another like this for Usagi Tsukino.

If only there was some way she could manage to talk to him, it would all be perfect…

But for now, she'd settle for sneaking (hopefully) a photo or two (or fifty) of him to send to Minako. Because who better to affirm her attraction, and appreciate the male sex than Minako?

She scooted herself against the window so that she was sitting at an angle, her back half-pressed against the glass, trying to make it seem as if she was just making herself more comfortable, instead of doing one of the more stalkerish things she'd ever done in her life. Being so short could often be annoying, but in instances such as these, where she would normally be invading others personal space, she was quite grateful for her tiny, vertically challenged body.

Turning the camera function on, on her phone, she tapped the center of her screen so that Ridiculously Hot Train Guy would be perfectly in focus, while he so beautifully read his boring-ass paper, scribbling comments in the margins every now and then.

When Usagi was happy with the framing and the light that showed on her screen, she pressed the red button, smiling to herself at how adorable he looked concentrating so hard on the words in front of him.

Everything was wonderful!

…Until she saw a bright flash of light from the back of her camera.

She froze, completely mortified. How could she have possibly forgotten to turn the flash off?!

She was a supposed to be a social media guru for Christ's sake. An ill-timed flash was the rookie-est of rookie mistakes one could make.

Dark blue eyes looked at her through a sideways glance, his pen stilling on the paper, and Usagi snapped herself back to an upright position, the deepest blush that had  _ever_ darkened her cheeks settled firmly in place.

She turned her gaze toward the window, resolutely staring out into the darkness, in an effort to avoid any kind of eye contact with her seat buddy, while embarrassment and anger at herself ate away at her.

But after what felt like ages, she couldn't resist, putting her peripheral vision to work, glancing at him out of the corner of eye, only to find him seemingly undisturbed back to scribbling away on his papers, the title of which she could now see was, "Stability Structure of an Extractor Based Machine."

_What a gorgeous nerd._

Usagi did finally allow herself a quick look through her phone, suddenly remembering her mission in the first place.

And after a few taps, there it was. The perfect picture of Ridiculously Hot Train Guy. At least she had this as a prize for her efforts, since she was fairly certain any remote chance she had with this guy who was so obviously out of her league was completely blown the second she took The Picture Seen Round the World.

She decided she needed validation of her newly found love, quickly firing off the picture in a text to Minako, unable to keep the audible huff from escaping her when she got a quick response back from her friend of, 'You woke me up for that? 5.6 of 10.'

Offended, she settled back into her seat, checking her watch only to see that not even an hour had passed since they had departed from Osaka.

Usagi was trying her best to focus on the faint sight of the Japanese countryside whizzing by in the darkness. That was until she heard a sharp intake of breath and a deep, "shit," from right next to her.

Glancing over, she saw the newly cemented Love of Her Life holding his hands out so as to not touch anything, black ink covering his hands in deep, wet splotches, the pen he'd been holding now resting in his lap on top of the boring paper he'd been reading.

"Oh, no!" Usagi cried, numerous occasions where the exact same thing had happened to her flashing through her mind (pens exploding on you happened a lot when you were a pen chewer). "Here, let me help you!"

Reaching down between her legs, she pulled out her duffle bag that was covered in pink bunnies, and began to rummage through, looking for the can of hairspray she kept with her at all times.

When she found it, she held it up in a victorious pose, before turning back towards him.

He was staring with concern at the item in her hand, eyes wide and confused. "Hey! What are you going to-"

Ignoring his protests, Usagi grabbed his left hand in her right. But a jolt of electricity she'd never felt before at the touch of another stopped her movements. Her eyes flew to his in a bit of shock, and she was equally surprised to find the same shocked expression reflected back at her.

Several long seconds stretched between them where they sat looking at each other, her thoughts completely lost in the endless blue depths of his eyes, her breathing shallow, and her face flushed.

He really was the most  _beautiful_  man she'd ever seen. All dark, unruly hair that fell perfectly into place, full lips and long eyelashes were enough to make her mouth run dry. Normally, if she were able to think straight, Usagi would be annoyed at how effortless his beauty was, but for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to begrudge this perfect man his ridiculous beauty.

He was the first to recover from the trance they'd fallen into. "Uh...what are you...what are you doing with that?" he repeated in a deep voice that sent tingles all through her, nodding at the can of hairspray she still held.

Usagi shook her head to clear it, her cheeks nearly as pink as they'd been earlier when she'd been caught photographing him. "This will keep the ink from setting into your skin," she said, meeting his eyes again, and waiting for him to give her permission to continue.

"Trust me, I've done this a lot," she said nonchalantly, hoping it might help with his uneasiness.

The smirk she'd seen when he first set eyes on her earlier was back, curling up the corners of his sensuous mouth. "I can see that," he said.

She knew there was no way his remark could be construed as a compliment.

" _Baka_ ," Usagi hissed before she could stop herself. Grabbing his hands, she sprayed the hair spray on them, this time ignoring the jolt that went through her at the feeling of his warm skin.

"Let it set for a minute," she told him, annoyance lacing her tone as she put the lid back on the can, and dug through her bag for the wet wipes she had also learned were a necessity to have with her at all times.

"Whatever you say, Odango Atama."

She froze her digging movements, as his words settled over her, her eyes growing wide.

" _What_  did you just call me?!" Usagi shrieked all too loudly. Dozens of heads turned towards her, and she found herself the recipient of annoyed stares from all around the train cabin.

Shrinking back into her seat in embarrassment, Usagi turned towards the man next to her, to give him a glare of her own, only to find him with an infuriating, amused grin on his face.

"It's because of your hair," he said, making a motion with his hands in a circle around his own head in what she assumed was an imitation of the buns she was infamous for. "Nothing to yell about, Odango Atama."

Her mouth fell open in shock as he insulted her for the second time in less than a minute, and she turned back to her bag, still looking for the wipes that were currently hiding from her.

How had she ever believed herself to be in love with this guy?! He was obviously a total jerk. A  _hot_ jerk she would forever enjoy imagining with his shirt off, but a jerk nonetheless.

She mumbled as such to herself, too, when she finally grabbed his hands back into her own and began to furiously scrub his skin with the wipe. " _Arrogant asshole."_

The fact that she could feel him suppressing a laugh at her only fueled her anger more, as she finished with a huffy, "there," placing the used wipe on the tray in front of her, crossing her arms and staring resolutely at the seat back in front of her.

"Wow," Usagi heard from beside her, and she glanced over to see him looking at his now cleaned hands, seemingly impressed.

"You do good work," he said, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes, mind automatically guessing was insulting her again, this time with sarcasm.

"No, really! " he said sincerely, eyes meeting hers. She was surprised at the genuine smile he was sending her way, and even more surprised at how clouded her brain seemed to become with that simple look.

"Thank you," he continued on, running a hand through his hair. "I really do appreciate it. I'm giving a lecture this afternoon, and that would have been...embarrassing to say the least."

Her brain screamed at her to keep quiet. To just leave it at that. To not take the bait and ask the jerk anything about himself. But her mouth often worked much faster than her brain.

"Lecture?" she asked, tearing her gaze away from him to look down at her clasped hands in her lap. "What for?"

He seemed flustered as he spoke, and Usagi could sense he was uneasy when she looked back up at him. "It's, uh...for my old university, Keio, for-"

"You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," she rushed out, shaking her head and causing the streamers of her hair to flow around her. "I didn't mean to pry."

But he shook his head right back at her. "No!" he said forcefully, which confused Usagi, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. "I'm just...terrible at talking about myself is all."

She found herself once again mesmerized by him. The way his inky hair fell into his eyes. The way his brow furrowed as he struggled to find words. The way his mouth moved as he spoke.

Ok, maybe she was still in love with him just a little bit.

"Even- what was it? Arrogant assholes?- can be socially inept, you know," he said finally, the telltale smirk back on his face.

Usagi blushed for what must have been the hundredth time since she'd sat down on the train, but his smile was infectious and she couldn't help but return it.

"Yeah, well," she said, "maybe you're not the  _worst_  person ever, I guess. Second worst, maybe."

"Thanks, Odango Atama," he replied, smile still fully intact.

She rolled her eyes again, but this time in playful annoyance. "My name is  _Usagi,_ baka."

"Wait," he said seriously, after her declaration. "You mean your name isn't Odango Atama?!"

Usagi couldn't help but giggle at his obvious silliness, amazed at how much the man before her could swing her emotions so fluidly. "No, amazingly enough, it is not."

After a short pause, she took in a deep breath and worked up the courage to ask. "And what's your name, socially inept, arrogant asshole?"

He smiled, and looked down at his hands, hair falling into his eyes again, before he looked back to her. "Mamoru. Mamoru Chiba."

Usagi stuck out her tiny hand for him to shake, fighting the urge to close her eyes at the sensation of his skin against hers. "Usagi Tsukino. Nice to meet you, Mamoru Chiba."

"You too, Odang-" he started, until she glared at him again, a mischievous gleam in his eye, "-Usagi Tsukino." Her name rolled off his tongue like he was meant to say it.

They continued to smile at each other, their hands still clasped together for much longer than would have been considered the social norm in this kind of situation, but Usagi didn't care.

And when they finally did part, Usagi felt emboldened. "So, now that we  _really_ know each other, I can pry into your life, right?"

Mamoru rolled his eyes, but she noticed he was still smiling. "If I said no, would that stop you?"

"Umm," she said, touching her hand to her chin as she appeared to think. "Not really."

He laughed quietly. "Didn't think so."

"What is your lecture about, then?"

"Neurology," he answered. "Pediatric neurology, specifically, dealing with childhood brain trauma and amnesia."

Her eyes couldn't have bugged further out of her head if she'd tried. "Neurology?!" she said incredulously. "So, you're like, a doctor or something?"

Mamoru looked incredibly amused at her response, but she couldn't help but notice color that crept up on his cheeks. "Yes, I...am."

She was undoubtedly in awe of him at his admission. Who wouldn't be in awe of a person like him? Obviously brilliant, Keio graduate, gorgeous, witty. And so far out of her league it made her heart ache in an almost unbearable way.

"That's-" her voice broke a bit, and she cursed the tears that pricked at her eyes. She looked back down at her hands in her lap. "-really amazing."

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern lacing his voice, as his hand reached over to touch her arm.

Usagi plastered the biggest smile she could muster, and nodded her head enthusiastically in the affirmative.

 _No need to let him know just how far gone you are on him, this person you_ just met,  _baka._

"I'm so sorry if I said something to offend-"

"No!" it was her turn to sound strangely forceful. "I'm just really impressed is all," she said with a shrug and a sheepish smile. "I can't even imagine how hard you had to work for that."

"It certainly had its moments," he said with a slight smile, before turning the conversation back to her. "And what do you do for a living, Usagi?"

Usagi let out a snort, knowing how ridiculous her profession would sound up against his. "Nothing as important as neurology, that's for sure."

He smiled disarmingly, and shook his head. "That's not true," he said with a soft conviction. "As long as you find it meaningful, it's just as important."

She wondered if he had any idea of the effect he was having on her, as she found herself lost again in his gaze, her pulse racing so quickly she was certain he could see it on her neck if he looked.

Swallowing thickly, she finally answered. "I work freelance doing social media for companies, creating content for them, growing their follower base. That kind of thing."

She did have to admit every time she got to explain her job out loud, it  _did_ sound pretty cool. And Usagi was immensely proud of everything she had accomplished, even managing to save enough money that she could survive for a year easily without work if she needed to.

"So, you're like an Instagram expert?" Mamoru asked.

The giggle that escaped her at his question caused his eyes to darken. "Something like that, yes."

"Does your job entail you taking pictures of random people on trains, too?"

Usagi could feel the heat rising on her cheeks at his audacity to bring up one of the most mortifying moments of her life. She whipped her head towards him, giving him a withering look she hoped would send him crawling across the sea to China. But of course, all Mamoru did was place his head in his hand, elbow resting on his tray table, the now all too familiar smirk back on his lips.

"Shut-up, Mamoru-baka!" she hissed, and was rewarded with a deep laugh.

"I'm just giving you a hard time, Odango Atama," he said. "Though I am genuinely curious, since we know each other so well, now, and all," he paused to wink at her, "why exactly you needed a picture of me?"

Usagi wasn't used to feeling out of sorts. She was always the one pushing everyone forward, never meeting a stranger or feeling awkward in social situations. But the man in front of her was making her feel like as if she'd never had a successful conversation in her life.

"My roommate and I have this thing where we send pictures to each other of people we think are…" her eyes found his again, and her breath caught, the last word said in whisper, "...beautiful."

It was Mamoru's turn to blush, and he broke her gaze, looking down at his lap, hands clasping and unclasping awkwardly, and Usagi felt the slightest bit of satisfaction at finally flustering him.

She let the silence sit between them for a moment, but being who she was, Usagi never let quiet reign for long. "So, why kids and neurology?"

He smiled a bit, still not looking at her. "Well, why do you do what you do?" he countered.

She huffed in response. "You can't answer my question with another question!"

"Maybe you shouldn't ask such vague, overarching questions, then," he said, an amused look in his eyes, now fully turned to face her (as much as one could in a confining train seat.)

"You're not going to give me an answer are you?" she asked, crossing her arms in frustration.

Usagi could see his shoulders shaking with silent laughter before he answered. "Probably not."

" _Fiiiine_. Be that way," she said, sticking her tongue out at him for good measure.

She heard his laughter that time. "Real mature, Odango Atama," he replied, reaching out to tweak her nose lightly.

Usagi tried her best to ignore the almost addicting feeling of his touch, deciding instead to keep talking. "Where are you staying in Tokyo?"

Mamoru let out a long sigh. "My friend Motoki is letting me stay at his place. He's taking his girlfriend on a trip this weekend. Going to finally pop the question."

Her brow furrowed at his answer. Motoki? He couldn't be talking about  _her_  Motoki-oniisan, could he? Sure, there were a lot of people in Japan with that name, but the last time she'd talked with him, he had shown her the ring he was planning on giving to Reika when he proposed in a couple of weeks…

"You're not talking about Motoki Furuhata, are you?"

He appeared to start a bit at her question. "You...you know Motoki?"

A smile appeared on her face. She had a mutual friend with Ridiculously Hot Train Guy? Finally things were going her way.

"Know him?!" she exclaimed excitedly, causing a few heads to turn her direction. "He's practically my brother. I sure like him better than my actual brother, anyway."

Mamoru was still looking at her incredulously, so she went on, words rushing out of her. "I used to go to the arcade, like, every day after school. He showed me the ring he bought for Reika a few weeks ago when I met him for lunch at the arcade, and so I just wondered if you were talking about him. What a small world! So, you're from Juuban, as well? How do you know Motoki?"

He nodded. "I'm not originally from there, but I ended up in Minato for high school and college, which is where I met Motoki," Mamoru answered quietly. "He's...like family to me, as well."

Usagi was confused by the sadness in his eyes, convincing herself she was just misreading it. "Wow. That's so crazy," she said, shaking her head and smiling. She was relieved when he finally smiled back.

"I'm surprised this is the first time our paths have crossed, Odango," he said, voice lighter, now. "I used to go to the arcade quite a bit, too, for coffee and to see Motoki."

"I guess fate had other plans for us," Usagi said, reaching out to fake punch him in the arm.

He made a big show of acting like she'd hurt him, causing her to giggle. "I guess it did."

His papers fell to the floor then, forgotten in the midst of his pen emergency and their ensuing conversation. Mamoru bent to pick them, up stuffing them in his bag in what seemed like a rather uncharacteristic thing for him to do. Not that she really  _knew_  him or anything.

"If you're a doctor, why are you reading those boring math papers?" she asked, genuinely curious.

He laughed at her again, a sound she was really beginning to love. "Boring is a subjective term. I happen to find engineering very interesting."

"Whatever floats your boat, I guess," she said, trying to keep the disdain from her voice. So maybe, he wasn't totally perfect, but who was?

Her phone lit up then, with another message from Minako. But it wasn't the message that caught her eye. It was the time. They would be in Tokyo in a little under an hour.

A panic rose up in her then. There was still  _so much_  she didn't know about him. His hopes and dreams, his future plans, his favorite food, his birthday, did he look like his mom or dad more?! Of course the most immediate need was still…

"So, was your girlfriend upset that you had to go away for the weekend?" she asked examining the imaginary dirt beneath her nails, suddenly feeling very shy, another emotion she wasn't used to.

"Well, unless my cat counts as my girlfriend, then, no, I don't think so," he replied, and she could hear the amusement again.

Relief she knew she wasn't entitled to feel flooded her. No girlfriend or wife.  _Thank god._

"You...have a cat?" she asked, finally daring to look at him.

"I do," he nodded. "Would you like to see a picture of her?"

Usagi's eyes lit up at the prospect of seeing a cute animal, and he chuckled at her while he pulled out his phone.

She soon found herself squealing in delight at the most adorable little black cat she'd ever seen. He showed her numerous photos and some videos of her batting at the tropical fish he kept, which elicited even more squeals from her.

"What's her name?" Usagi asked.

"Luna," he replied, and she couldn't help but smile at the small amount of pride he seemed to hold for his little companion. "I found her ten years ago, and I swear she hasn't aged a day."

"What is that on her forehead?" Usagi asked, drawn to the almost gold looking crescent shape on the cat's head.

"I'm not sure. A bald spot, I guess. The vet never could figure it out either."

"It's so strange!" Usagi said, thoughts immediately turning to Minako's cat, Artemis. "My roommate's cat is completely white, and has that exact same marking on him."

"Must be the cats that brought us together then," he said, winking at her again.

Her insides felt like they were on a never-ending rollercoaster.

"And was your boyfriend upset?" he asked.

She turned to him, confused. He flushed, and looked back down at his hands. "That you were away? Assuming you're heading back home to Tokyo?"

Usagi felt that dangerous sting of hope in her chest at his question. "I don't have a boyfriend," she said finally. "But yes, I am heading back home."

She saw his shoulders relax a bit. "That's...really surprising to me," he said.

"What, that I live in Tokyo?"

Mamoru smiled and shook his head, black bangs briefly shifting on his forehead. "No, that you...don't have a boyfriend."

"Why?"

He shrugged uneasily. "I don't...it's just...you seem like someone who everyone...loves, is all."

Usagi's lips parted in shock at his statement, at a complete loss for words.

At her silence, Mamoru appeared to grow even more uneasy, his eyes widening, and his hands beginning their awkward wringing, again. "I'm sorry, that was so forward of me, I-"

Usagi bit her lip and shook her head. "No! Not at all!" she said, daring to reach out and touch his hands in an effort to still them and calm his uneasiness. She was surprised when he didn't make a move to pull away. "You're right, in a way. I  _do_ fall in love so, so easily. I just haven't found that magical, can't eat, can't sleep, you're so in love and you don't care who knows it thing I've always wanted."

His eyes were still very wide and dark while he stared at her. "You really believe in that?"

Usagi didn't break his gaze, no matter how badly she wanted to. "I mean, I know it's silly. There's billions of people on the planet, I know I shouldn't believe in  _one_ person being right for me, but, you know. Hopeless Romantic reporting for duty," she said with a smile, holding up her hand in an identifying motion.

Mamoru didn't say a word, but looked at her as if he was expecting her to continue on, so she did.

"I do so believe in love and that there are certain people who make you better every day just by being in your life. People you just love so much that you can't imagine life without them, can't imagine not sharing even the smallest part of your day with. And I've been so lucky to have found that in a lot of my friendships, but never in a romantic partner," she finished quietly, and he shook his head in acknowledgement.

"And if I don't ever find that," she kept going for some inexplicable reason, "I'm totally fine with it. I love my life. But if I was lucky enough to meet the right person one day, I want to be ready to jump in headfirst."

"Do you think you'll ever find what you're looking for?" he asked breathlessly, and Usagi became painfully aware of just how close they had gotten to each other, his face now just inches away from hers, after they had apparently been draw to each other like magnets as she rambled on about love.

_Would it be too weird to say I think I just did?_

She held back though, too afraid to break the spell they were under, instead simply replying, "God, I hope so."

The corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile, before his eyes landed on her lips.

Usagi's eyes fluttered closed in anticipation, she could feel his breath on her face, the train all but disappearing around them when…

" _Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Shinkansen…"_  was heard in the cabin, announcing their imminent arrival at Shinagawa.

They jumped apart from one another, Mamoru standing up so quickly his head smacked into the overhead compartment above him. He nearly ran over the sleeping man in the aisle seat in his haste to get away, a sight which Usagi would have found totally entertaining if her brain wasn't clouded with confusion.

She watched him pull his bags down, bumping into a short, old woman in the process, and he bowed low, apologizing profusely for his gaffe.

Usagi slowly made her way out into the aisle, her duffle bag slung over her shoulder, weighing her down significantly, and despite Mamoru's efforts to apparently flee from her, she had ended up right behind him in the long line of passengers waiting to exit the train.

When they had both managed to exit onto the platform, Mamoru turned around abruptly, causing Usagi to smash into him, his arms reaching out instinctively to wrap around her and keep her from falling.

Once he'd righted her back on her feet, he dropped his arms from her, nearly sending Usagi reeling again.

They stood for a few long moments just staring at each other. Numerous passengers shooting them dirty looks for clogging up the platform.

Mamoru awkwardly stuck out his hand, and Usagi reluctantly took it, shaking it a couple of times before dropping it like she'd been burned.

What the hell was going on? Hadn't they almost just kissed on the train, and now he was saying goodbye to her like they'd just exited a business meeting?

"Well, uh…it was nice to meet you, Usagi," he said, eyes avoiding hers, as he looked down towards the exit.

His words stung her. And she felt a rush of annoyance, not a him, but at herself for allowing him in so easily.

She plastered the biggest smile she could on her face, directing the full blast of her sunshiny personality at him, refusing to let him see how much his awkwardness was affecting her. "You too. If I ever need someone for a head injury, I'll look you up."

That did bring a slight smile to his lips, before it was replaced by a mask that hurt her heart so much more than his apparent rejection of her.

"Maybe I'll see you at Motoki's wedding," he offered lamely, still avoiding her eyes.

"I'm sure we will! Good luck with your lecture!" she said, repositioning her bag, and flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Bye!"

She left him standing there, then. Her pace as confident as she could muster, refusing to allow him the satisfaction of a look back.


End file.
